The Brazilian, the French, and the Moroccan
by 1morey
Summary: Caveira, Twitch, and Nomad undertake a mission to Beirut, ending with some cute Caveira/Twitch interactions.
1. Chapter 1

It had been many hours. The man saw nothing but darkness. He never saw who captured him. He had been knocked out in his home, early in the evening. He wasn't sure what time it was. One in the morning maybe? He could feel a spreading warmth down the side of his head. He was unable to reach up to feel it, but he knew it was his blood. Suddenly, there was a blinding light, and standing in front of him, was a woman. She was clad in black, with a beret on her head, her hair tied back in a thick ponytail. What terrified him the most, was that her face was painted in semblance of a skull.

"'iina alshatanya!" The man screamed.

Taina "Caveira" Pereira looked at the man with a cold expression. Caveira, Emmanuelle "Twitch" Pichon, and Sanaa ''Nomad'' El Maktoub had been in Beirut for the last three weeks. They were tasked with locating and capturing Aamir Al-Darwish, a Lebanese arms dealer who had provided weapons to a local gang. The gang had, a month prior, pulled off a bank heist, resulting in the deaths of seven civilians, and five police officers. Al-Darwish was nearly a ghost to Beirut law enforcement. He was widely known for being nearly impossible to hide. At least, until Grace "Dokkaebi" Nam had traced his corrospondents with the gang to his home.

But Al-Darwish was one of the easiest captures Caveira had made. He was a very meek looking man. Someone you wouldn't usually suspect to be an arms dealer. Caviera, knew sometimes the most dangerous people are the ones who you wouldn't suspect. Here he was, tied and bound to a chair, at the mercy of Rainbow's most ruthless operator.

"Sorry, my Arabic's a little rusty." Caveira said to Al-Darwish. "Nomad, what did he say?"

Static came from a nearby intercom.

"He said you are the devil."

Caveira leaned in, to look the man in the eyes.

"The devil wishes he could be me." Caveira said, the expression on her face unchanging.

Caveira was widely known for her, "unorthodox" interrogation techniques. The prior psychologist for team Rainbow, had Caveira tested multiple times for anti-social personality disorder. Every single result came up inconclusive. To Caveira, it didn't really matter if she had ASPD or not. Caveira had a troubled childhood, that much was known. But, Caveira knew there was a time and place for everything. It wasn't that she was uncaring, growing up in the favelas of São Paulo, you had to be tough. Especially in a family of ten other boys. But, what a lot of people never understood, was that Caveira had a knack for shutting off her emotions when needed. Even though she appeared stand-offish around the other operators, she relaxed herself heavily around Pichon, who she had been romantically involved with for the past year and a half. Some organizations opposed romantic partners to work together in this line of work, but Caveira knew to leave her personal life at home when she worked. At least, that's what she thought Dr. Harishva Pandey would believe. He was a good director, even more so, being the team's psychologist. However, she suspected El Maktoub was tasked to join them for more than being the translator.

Caveira unsheathed her knife, twirling it between her fingers.

"I'm gonna make this short and quick...I always do."

Caveira paced in front of Al-Darwish. 

"You're an arms dealer. But the question is, who are you buying the weapons from? It's definitely not Syria. Not in these times."

"I won't tell you a fucking thing!" Al-Darwish spat.

"You say that now, but I'll let you in on a little secret. Out of the three dozen interrogations I've done. Every single one has talked. Some required more...persuasion than others, but they do talk. They always do in the end."

Caveira picked up Al-Darwish's left hand, put the blade of her knife to the nail of his index finger, and pried it off.

The man screamed in agony, as blood flowed from where his nail had been.

"Who supplied you the weapons."

"No one."

Caveira went to his ring finger, and pried off the nail. Again, Al-Darish cried out in pain.

"I can do this all night." Caveira said, calmly.

Static once again erupted from the intercom. It was Twitch.

"Caveira, try not to hurt him too much." Twitch said. Al-Darwish could tell from her tone she was only half-serious.

Caveira grabbed Darwish's jaw, and place her knife into the corner of his mouth.

"I could always give you a Glasgow smile."

Al-Darwish tried to speak, but it only came out as incoherent mumbling.

Caveira pulled the knife out.

"What'd you say?"

"The Phoenix." Al-Darwish said, sweating. "They call themselves the Phoenix. They are a militia group out of Yemen. Ex-military."

"Never heard of them." Caveira said.

"They are very secretive. They hide their own faces when conducting business, and do not even speak."

"How do they communicate with you?"

"They have their own form of sign language. They taught it to me. They provided me a book they handmade."

"So, do you know who the leader is?" Caveira asked.

"Only what he refers to himself as."

"What?"

"Phoenix One. I do not know his real name. I am not even sure if Phoenix is a man, or if I even met them."

"You say they only communicate in sign language when conducting business."

"Yes."

"You have a phone. Surely they must speak with you in some capacity."

"They do speak on the phone. But it is all pre-recorded dialogue, stuff from television, movies, videos." Al-Dariwish explained.

"Where is Phoenix One on your phone?"

"Fuck you, I won't tell. If they find out I had talked, they will kill me."

"And if you don't tell me, _I'll_ kill you." Caveira said sharply.

Caveira looked through Al-Darwish's phone. No contact names. Only numbers, but not the phone numbers. Al-Darwish had made the contact names a series of numbers. She wondered if there was a way to find the number. As she looked through the names, she realized the numbers correlated to the alphabet.

"'7463649 663'." Caveira said. "Guess I didn't need to ask you anyways. But, for the inconvenience..."

Caveira stuck her knife into the back of Al-Darwish's left knee.

An hour later, Caveira, Twitch, Nomad, and Al-Darwish, who was again, bound, drove out of Beirut in an unmarked black 89 Land Rover Defender 110, with racklights.

The group made their way into the night, the moon was full.

The Land Rover parked off hundreds of yards from the main road. Unlike the stereotypical portrayl of the Middle East, Lebanon was not desert. In fact, it's geography was more mountainous and rocky.

Caveira and Nomad dragged Al-Darwish out of the Land Rover, and threw him to the ground.

Caveira pulled out his phone and called Phoenix One.

"Hello?" A pre-recorded woman's voice said in an American accent.

"Hello." Caveira responded.

"Who is this?" Suddenly, the voice was a man's. And it was not pre-recorded.

"Just wanted to let you know that Al-Darwish ratted you out. He's about an hour out of Beirut, he'll be waiting for you."

"Who the fuck is this?" The voice asked, angrily.

"It's not that important." Caveira said before hanging up. She turned on the GPS signal on Al-Darwish's phone, and placed it in his pocket. He was still bound, so they wouldn't have to worry about him warning Phoenix One.

"You fucking whore!" Al-Darwish screamed.

Caveira turned and looked at Al-Darwish with a glare.

Suddenly, Twitch thrusted her foot into Al-Darwish's jaw with a sickening crunch. Al-Darwish collapsed to the ground. He spat out blood, as well as a few teeth.

Twitch turned to look at Caveira and Nomad. Nomad looked at Twitch, with a hint of concern. Twitch rarely ever lashed out like this.

"Come on, let's go." Caveira said. "He's a dead man walking." 


	2. Chapter 2

Back at a safehouse in Tripoli, Caveira, Twitch, and Nomad were eating dinner together. They were eating in silence.

Nomad had been asked to keep an eye on Twitch and Caveira. This was their first mission together after Twitch had gone AWOL in Bolivia, and Harry wanted to make sure their romantic involvement would not be a problem. Nomad had suspicions Caveira knew, and decided it was best to speak up.

"Harry asked me to join you on the mission. Not just for the operational duties."

"I knew it." Caveira said. Her face was still unchanging even though the mission was over.

"I was told if there was any concerns to report back." Nomad explained. "But, Caveira has the best interrogation skills out of any of us in Rainbow. And Twitch, you are also invaluable. I don't want to see anyone get in trouble. So I am going to put that things went smoothly between the two of you."

"Thank you." Twitch said.

"Anyways, I think I am going to get some rest. Have a good night."

Nomad got up and went to her room.

"I'm sorry for reacting the way I did." Twitch said to Caveira. "I know everyone has concerns about you, but it is plain to me that I am the one that needs to keep my emotions in check."

"Em, it is okay." Caveira said. "Em" was Caveira's nickname for Pichon. "Just know that even if I keep myself mission-oriented when on duty, I still love you. I will help you learn to balance your emotions."

After they got done doing the dishes, Caveira and Twitch sat down at the table again, playing a game of Parcheesi.

Twitch looked up at Caveira.

"You know, I didn't want to say anything, but you still have some facepaint on the corner of your nose." Twitch said with a smile.

"What?" Caveira said, trying to keep her voice down.

She got up and ran to the bathroom. She took a washcloth, and wiped the rest of the paint off.

Twitch walked in. She wrapped her arms around Caveira's waist and kissed her on the head.

"I love you."

"I love you, amor." Caveira said softly.


	3. Chapter 3

That night, Twitch tossed and turned, unable to sleep. She was racked with anxiety. She knew Nomad would keep things between the three of them.

Finally, Twitch got out of bed, and walked into the kitchen. She got a glass of water, taking a few sips. She emptied the glass into the sink, placing the cup in the sink, and walked over to Caveira's room. The door was open. Caveira preferred it that way.

Twitch stood in the doorway, making sure to stay quiet. She knew Caveira was a light sleeper, and did not want to wake her.

Twitch stared at her girlfriend for a few minutes. She was in love with Caveira, and Caveira was in love with her, and Twitch was excited that when they went on vacation, she could bring Caveira to France to stay with her.

Suddenly Caveira muttered from her bed, "Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to come to bed?"

Twitch jumped, and then quietly laughed. She walked over to the bed, and pulled the covers back to lay down with Caveira. Caveira turned over, and embraced Twitch, kissing her on the cheek.

The two soon drifted off to sleep, holding each other.


End file.
